The forsaken flowers that I leave behind, 

Find my traces over there. 

On the gentle trail alongside the cemented road,

You will find them. 

A white rose fallen as if forsaken. 

I left it intentionally for you. 

So, that you can find my smell from there.

Pick the cues. 

But, the stained petals of the flowers tell a different story. 

They say, you won’t understand decay. 

You won’t learn the language of love in ruins and ruminations. 

You want to suppress the love you had for wrong people and so you have stopped loving the right ones. 

The stain in the dead flower remarks, 

What you leave behind doesn’t leave you. 

They find you back to back where you’ve left it. 

The tragedy of the fallen flower is, it is forsaken and collected for eye buds  to enjoy the decay. 

The decay of greatness, color and mighty life. 

The decay of a lively soul.

©® Farheen Akter Bhuian Nancy 

Timeframe: 11.26 am, Tagar